Chapter 2-
What to say to you?
The stars were only beginning to flee when Cáel awoke. To her dismay there was little silence to be found in the early hours. The little hobbit hole was bustling, and with great displeasure and an even greater groan she extracted herself from the soft grass she had nestled in the night before.
She emerged from the rose bushes she had sheltered under, cursing as a thorn caught on her cape and startling a dwarf that was strapping pots and pans to his pony.
"Oh my apologies!" She cried as they clattered to his feet, and she rushed to help him round them up. The dwarf went beet red in embarrassment, "Oh no don't trouble yourself!" He insisted.
Tacking the utensils to the pony, the Druid pinned the dwarf with a narrowed stare. "You are… Bofur?" She asked, filing through her memory of the night before and surveying the distinctive bowl cut and mittens.
"Bofur would be I, lass," a jolly voice called out, and another dwarf bounded from the smial, arms filled with travel packs. This one had a large hat and curiously curled braids. "The young one who has fled was Ori."
Whirling her attention back to the dwarf- Ori- she found that there was no attention to be given, as sure enough, he had disappeared from sight.
"Mayhaps you do not require a hobbit for burglary," she hooted. "He was rather light footed. I hope I did not offend him in some way.." she added, glancing about the garden worriedly, taking note of how the other dwarves bustling around talked in their own tongue, sending her weary glances.
"Oh don't worry, he probably thinks you are pretty, or scary." Bofur laughed, haphazardly flinging packs atop ponies. "If he were a dwarrow worth even a pebble, he would think both." He winked a crow footed eye, and heat bloomed across her cheeks.
"Oh you are a flatterer, I see!" Cáel laughed. "I will be telling you this instant, I do not fraternise with my clients."
"What about after our contract is completed?" Cáel jolted as another voice piped in, this time a fair haired dwarf with a golden pelt jacket. The beads in his moustache twitched into a smirk as he peered over his pony. A part of her brain
"We shall see who arrives at my chamber door first." She shrugged, grinning, to which Bofur and the newcomer guffawed, astonished by her forwardness.
Her mouth ticked a bit wider as boots crunched towards them, the leader of their rag-tag Company approaching. He seemed tense, back rod straight and jaw clenching. She bowed her head at their oncoming leader politely. "Good morning, Master Thorin, did you sleep well?"
"May I speak to you, privately." In spite of the wording, it was not a question. Cáel bid the dwarves a good day, and followed the dark haired dwarf some paces away.
"I would implore you to not be inappropriate towards my Company." He rounded on her, eyes blazing.
"Oh, I don't mean disrespect, it was just a bit of fun." She said
"Find your fun elsewhere," his glare was pinned to her, and despite their height difference, it was apparent that he was looking down his nose at her. "Some of my Company are young, and I will not have them influenced negatively because you think yourself becoming."
The Druid woman gaped, stunned by the aggression of his words. Face turning a putrid shade of red, she stammered out an acknowledgement. Truth be told, she did not exactly know what she herself said, but Thorin took this as acceptance, and turning on his heel, he left just as quickly as he had plucked her from conversation.
"You're already making trouble, dear?" Gandalf guffawed as he materialised at her shoulder, leaning into his staff for support as he began to hiccup.
She rounded on him with a cry of fury. "Gandalf did you hear how he spoke to me? He's awful!"
"Oh, Dú-Híril, at least he had the good sense to take you aside to talk privately. Otherwise your jaw wagging embarrassment would have been noticed by the whole Company." He chortled at the glare she fired towards him, groaning at the nickname.
"You're enjoying this, you cruel, cruel wizard!" Her face fell into her palms, mortified and moaning "I wasn't even the one who started that line of conversation!"
"Oh but you did not cease the flirting, and for that you have worried our dear leader," Gandalf snickered, but his tone was as serious as anything. "I urge you to be careful with your words. You will be travelling with them for some time, do not allow them to shun you for a silly reason."
Their talk was interrupted further by their leader calling out- they were to set off within moments.
She cast a glance towards the smial, the door falling shut after the last dwarf to exit. She counted thirteen upon a quick survey as she mounted her horse. "Is Mister Baggins not joining us?" She asked the wizard as they began their trek, brows knitting with a frown. She rather liked the high functioning hobbit. He was gracious and kind in spite of his home being taken over by a hoard of ravenous dwarves. Cáel liked the way he twitched and jittered when put on the spot. He would have been an amusing traveling companion, and the loss of his fellowship left a twinge of disappointment.
Gandalf chuckled when he was told as such, "I wouldn't be so sure that this is the last we see of Bilbo Baggins." He hummed sagely.
"Would ye' be willing to bet on that?" A robust dwarf jeered, a red beard trailing down his broad chest.
"I would, Master Gloin." The wizard harrumphed at the interruption, but Cáel saw that glint in his eye. Thus, a betting pool was formed, and the dwarves clamoured rose lay their bets. Ori scribbled away the coin each fellow lay down within a thick booklet, and Cáel urged her horse forward so as to peer down at his writing. She grimaced, the travelling dwarves did not seem to hold a high opinion of the poor hobbit.
"What of you Miss Cáel, do you say we have seen the last of our hobbit?" A dark haired dwarf with limited facial hair grinned at her. He rode beside the fair haired one from earlier- the one who got me in trouble. She levelled him with a contemplative stare, feeling eyes piercing her back. Something pricked in the back of her mind.
"I bet thirty gold that he will catch up to us before lunch time."
"Prepare to have your purse feeling considerably lighter by noon!" Gloin called out, the company laughing raucously.
She simply shrugged, and urged her horse firther along the procession so as to ride alongside Gandalf again . Coin held very little importance to her, she could always gain it back later if need be.
"Gandalf, could you give me a quick introduction to our fellow companions?" She whispered lowly.
He glanced back at her in surprise, "why of course! First of all, we have our leader, Thorin and then we have his nephews- his sisters children : Kili and Fili,"
Now that Gandalf pointed it out, she could see the resemblance. Kili's colouring was much like his uncle's, and Fili- the one who got her in trouble, she thought with some amusement- had the same gleaming blue eyes. The three all shared sharp bone structure, their noses strong, and their ears tilted slightly forward.
"Then going down the line we have Dwalin and Balin, who are cousins of the Durin line." Balin was the polite interrogator, Dwalin the broad bald one.
"Then there is Oin and Gloin,
Oin was the elderly dwarf who was hard of hearing, and Gloin was the one who had started the betting pool.
"There is Ori, Dori and Nori."
She had met Ori briefly, but looking at him now he seemed far younger than some of the other dwarves, awkward and gangly much like a young adult of Men would be like. Dori was the tea connoisseur she had spied yesterday, and Nori had three flamboyant points in his hair, rather like a star.
"And at last we have Bifur, Bofur, Bombur."
Bifur sat quietly atop his pony, a bit of metal sprouting from his forehead. Bombur was a rather robust dwarf who chattered away happily to Bofur- the flirt from earlier.
All in all, they seemed a pleasant company of travellers. Now the only problem was actually… interacting with them. And have them interact in kind. Her mind whirled- that was the part she usually stumbled on.
Urging Oat further up the line of dwarves, she approached the procession's leader. As she came to his shoulder, the way his jaw clenched was evident, his back as taut as a pulled bowstring.
"I wish to apologise," she said softly, "I know dwarves are protective over their family, I understand your wish to shield your sister-sons, I meant no disrespect." The leader's jaw loosened, and turned fully to look at her. Examining blue eyes surveyed tattooed skin, shaggy hair, thin, wind bitten lips. His contemplation lasted a moment longer than was comfortable, and he nodded, his mouth curving softly- it was barely a twitch, but Cáel caught the subtle motion. It lit up his entire face, shifting the solemn countenance into something more merry. He truly was very handsome. Her chest swelled with a feeling she couldn't quite name.
"You can be rest assured that your line shall not be tainted by the likes of myself." She announced sincerely, much to her detriment. Thorin scoffed, eyes rolling to the heavens. He opened his mouth to respond- something mean, she had no doubt-
"Wait! Wait!"
His mouth snapped shut as Cáel's opened, a hooting laugh erupting forth as the hobbit plodded towards them. Her head cocked, they were an hour or so out from his home- he ran all this way?
"I signed it!" He stated, waving the contract as it trailed behind him, handing it off to Balin. The old dwarf surveyed it with a coy smile.
"Everything appears to be in order. Welcome, Master Baggins, to the Company of Thorin Oakenshield."
The hobbit beamed - a grin of pure unbridled joy and Cáel felt her heart squeeze. She was so very happy for him.
"Get him a pony," Thorin pursed his mouth as the hobbit objected, before shaking his head and just moving forward.
Bilbo was grasped by his pack straps, heaved onto a pony by the youngest sons of Durin despite his objections. Cáel's gaze shifted towards Oakenshield, while his attention was on the horizon she took a moment to truly survey him. His nose was strong, and would be straight if not for a few bumps smattering its bridge- she wondered if it was broken in battle, shivering at the thought. His eyes were set in heavy brow bones, inky black hair with threads of silver and grey, reminiscent of a twilight sky, framed a hauntingly severe face, all hard angles. He had little smile lines creasing his eyes, not as pronounced as Bofur's. Cáel was glad the regal dwarf had seen reason to smile throughout his life, and was now wholly understanding of why he had so many songs written about him.
It helps when you are a dashing Crown Prince, she supposed, making it easier to weave words of feats and battles.
"You shouldn't worry," she said lowly, "Bilbo will not impede this journey."
Thorin cast her an inquisitive glance, "Are you a seer?"
"No," she chuckled, "but I trust Gandalf, and he loves hobbits- he would not throw someone into the wild who did not have what it takes to flourish." Not survive- flourish. Cáel had seen it before, Gandalf had a finger in all of Arda's greatest pies- it's heroes, it's adventurers. He is the Wandering Wizard- the nickname was not given thoughtlessly- but Cáel had a suspicion that he wandered in search of something, much like her. For Gandalf, that something was heroes, defenders of the free worlds, no matter how domestic or mundane their help is when looking back in history.
"Gandalf has faith that your journey will end with success, and he has faith that Master Baggin will aid with that success." She said simply, watching as the hobbit was thrown a ripped bit of cloth as a handkerchief, fussing away about horsehair and allergies. "It may not be obvious why or in what way he does help, but the Wizard is certain that he is a good addition, and you should have faith in Gandalf."
"You speak much of faithfulness, are you a priestess of some sort?"
"Oh, Gods no," she laughed, tickled by the thought. "No, my lifestyle is a bit less pure than what a priestess would vow to. I simply worship the natural world that Yavanna created."
She paused, glancing back towards him. "Do you not believe in the Smith?" She asked, cocking her head. Eyes cut into her, and she hoped she didn't overstep.
He hummed, watching her thoughtfully. "I do believe, but I do not worship as it seems you do. That is not the way of Dwarrow."
They descended into silence, and it seemed that that conversation was done.
"Do you play that instrument, or is it just strapped to your back for decoration?" A thickly accented voice called out, and Cáel cocked her head to see Dwalin peering at her. With a fluid motion, the lute was pulled to her hands, the instrument elegantly crafted, its long neck fitting snugly against her fingers. "I do play it, in fact! Do you have any requests?"
The bald dwarf grunted, but another voice cut in. "How about a love song?" Fili grinned mischievously, the beads in his moustache swishing with the movement. In her peripheral, the King Under the Mountain tensed, the looseness that had seeped into his muscles as their conversation had gone on had all fled.
"An excellent idea! My dear friend 'Dir penned this one about the love between a parent and child- I'm sure you all will like it."
"Dear Celebrimbor,
What to say to you?
You have my eyes
You have…"
She strummed the strings, allowing them to reverberate as she crooned the song, thankful that the King's shoulders had loosened again, even if the dwarves had jeered at the elvish name dropped. That sort of ribbing she could handle- in fact, she welcomed it. It made her feel a part of the group. The last thing she wanted was to make their leader uncomfortable. The line of Durin was under no threat of having her infiltrate it. Court was never of interest to her anyway, she thought with a pursed smile. She knew her place, and it was not one of greatness.